


Six Years - The Rewrite

by KathyIsWeird



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyIsWeird/pseuds/KathyIsWeird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How long would you wait for someone that doesn't exist anymore to reappear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year One

Hey Maur,

 

I don’t remember the last thing I said to you, I don’t remember what your hair smells like, and I keep playing the video from the Fourth of July picnic three years ago just to hear your voice. Do you remember that day? We arrived at 10 p.m., 3 hours late, because we got caught up in the moment watching Fireworks over the lake. The picnic was almost over and we waltzed in like a teenage couple on their first date. Frankie was stuck patrolling it, he was too busy cleaning up a drunken Rondo who had decided that the BBQ was a good place to light off some firecrackers. Ma was too busy yelling with Pop over who’s turn it was to drive home during the post-picnic traffic. No one had even noticed our absence and we loved it. We sat on my jacket on top of the hill and I told you that you were beautiful for the first time while you cried and told me that not a single soul had ever said that to you before. You hair looked like strings of angelic gold in the soft summer moonlight. Your eyes were watery as you grabbed my hand to convey words that you didn’t trust yourself to say. I understood though, I still do. I miss you Maura.

 

It’s been a whole year, 365 days without you, that’s how long I’ve kept this notebook. I feel like even though you aren’t with me anymore, talking to this...collection of wide-ruled paper somehow makes you here again. People would think I was crazy if I spoke out loud to you, even though when I’m by myself in my room I talk like you’re still there, and I occasionally refer to you in the present tense, making people glance at each other awkwardly. Oh well. This notebook, with it’s navy blue cover, the same shade as your scrubs, and it’s 180 pages have become my therapeutic outlet, my conversationalist of sorts. You know, kinda like you used to be? I don’t even know if you’re alive or dead, and I think that might be what hurts the most. I wish that I could just take a peek into the future just to know if this is all worth it. I won’t give up until I know the whole truth, even if I might not want some of it. I don’t know if I’ll ever show you these letters. I have 51 so far, this makes 52 letters. One letter every week since you’ve been gone and I don’t see myself stopping until i find you. I love you Maur, and I’ll never stop telling you that.

 

-Jay

 

Jane set her pen down and rubbed her hands out of their cramped state. She had been writing for an hour and it hasn’t gotten any easier to use her hands this long, even if she did it every day. She wrote reports, she wrote down facts, she wrote the numbers to the Sudoku in the paper, and lately she had found herself writing random phrases and psalms on the margin of her notepad. Writing seemed to be the only way she communicated with anyone anymore, even if she was talking to someone who didn’t exist anymore. It was still nice to get her thoughts in order, if only for an hour or so every couple of days. She was tired of the constant reminders of her former happy life, so she stayed out of reality if she could. Writing was the passive aggressive way of saying things to people that wouldn’t speak to her anymore. She didn’t have to interrupt their busy lives to tell them things that they didn’t even care about.  
They probably did care way deep down inside, but they were tired of Jane being so sad and dismal. It’s not her fault that the love of her life had been taken out from underneath her; she didn’t ask for 365 days of pure heartbreak. This is what she told herself when she was having a particularly bad night that a 6 pack and a zombie movie couldn’t fix.

 

With an audible sigh, Jane lifted herself off her couch, making Jo whimper at the loss of her heat source. Most of her apartment existed only to please her mother when she came to visit. Jane didn’t care for the art on the walls, the useless throw pillows, the floral printed tea towels, or the egyptian artifacts, to make her cold apartment seem comfortable. She generally spent most of her home life on the couch. She remembered when she and Maura had looked at this couch, deciding that even though Jane was hard on things, the black leather was too smooth and chic to pass up. She had taken solace in one of the last things Maura and her had talked about and it just so happened to be this oversized piece of furniture. It was getting harder and harder to get up each day, when all she wanted to do was sleep and dream of the life she could be having. She dreamt of having a family, cooking for said family, coming home after a long day of work to hugs and helping with homework. She dreamt of long dates with little to no talking, and the ability to laugh at her adorable genius who had no idea how she was being funny. Those were the moments she reveled in, and those precious few moments before she fully woke were the happiest moments of her life, followed by some of the most gut wrenching pain one could even handle. Life just wasn’t what it used to be.

 

Jane shook her head and attempted to clear her thoughts. She stood and stretched her aching muscles in a feline movement that made her look like a cougar ready to pounce. She walked slowly toward her bedroom that she never actually slept in anymore. She avoided this room whenever she could; Maura’s scent had long faded from the bed and her dent in the pillow was just a hollow reminder of what had been the closest to perfection Jane could have ever imagined her life being. How could she sleep in a bed that felt so empty? She couldn’t even bring herself to remove her alarm clock from her bedside table, even if it went off every day at 5:45a.m., the same time Maura had used to wake up. The curtains they had picked out together after hours of fighting at Target hung with no purpose, lifeless and drab, with no inkling of the joy and happiness that used to be in this room. Her walls looked bare, Jane had removed most of the pictures from their hanging spots; she couldn’t sleep knowing that Maura’s face was smiling at her. Maura’s dresses still hung in her dark closet, untouched unless Jane had a particularly rough night and needed something to remind her that not everything in the world was evil. She would curl up into a ball on top of her sheets and pray to a God that she had lost all faith in. She would sob and plead until her cries waned and she drifted off into a frightful slumber. This is why she had taken to sleeping on the couch with a grey matter documentary looping in the background; she couldn’t bear to remove Maura’s only slot on on the DVR. It was silly, but it’s how she eventually would fall asleep. 

 

It would be rough; it was always rough, but today would be worse. The world kept turning, and life had moved on. The world seemed to accept this without any thought otherwise. Maura was gone, not a chance of her coming back even if deep down, Jane thought that she was alive somewhere, whisked away by the Feds no doubt, never to visit her life here again. It was an unpopular opinion, and it had cost Jane a lot of relationships.

 

There was a funeral, it was closed casket which made Jane really wonder. It’s not like she was very lucid that anyways. The only memories that she kept of that day were sitting in the Prius and crying until she couldn’t breathe. That and getting so drunk later that she didn't wake up for about 18 hours later. Jane had gone through the stages of mourning and then she got stuck on anger. Why was there never a body? She had seen it happen and there weren’t any cosmetic injuries, and she had been forbidden to go anywhere near the morgue, like they didn’t trust her or anything. What was she going to do down there? All she would have done is say goodbye her soul mate, the love of her life, her Maura. That’s all.

 

The occasional thought made its way into her mind doubting what she was normally so sure of. She could see a conspiracy; she was a detective for a reason. It was almost insulting honestly. Someone was covering up some shit, and Jane could smell it from where she was at. Maura was a mobster’s daughter; it’s the kind of thing you would expect. Maura hadn’t even indulged in her biological father’s lifestyle but by proxy she was a Doyle.  
Maura had been a target, everyone knew it but no one wanted to talk about it at the time. Paddy Doyle was coming around too often; they knew something was off, but no one wanted to ruin the relationship that left Maura feeling whole, and wanted as a daughter. Paddy had always been a careful man, that’s how he had survived this long in a world of death and despair. Until recently, he had no visible weaknesses but then his lineage came to light, and suddenly everyone knew they had discovered the Achilles heel of the man that ruled the streets of Boston.

 

It physically sickened Jane to think that all it took was a dirty cop to ruin Maura Isles, a cop she had moved up the ranks with, who she had graduated with. The same cop to shake her hand when she was promoted, to even help her brother, Frankie, when he needed advice. It broke Jane’s heart to think that the same force that had nurtured Jane into adulthood played a part in destroying the life of the one person on the planet who did nothing but help others, and was extremely happy to do so.

 

Maura had been shot at, whilst kneeling over a body they had been called out to investigate. It seemed like your standard drug deal gone awry: single shot to the head, laid out in an alley. Although the ME held nothing but contempt for guessing, she was even feeling a tad relieved that she could possibly have an evening off; she and Jane hadn’t been on a date in weeks and they needed some time to themselves.

 

A “pop!” rang through the air, almost like someone had lit a firecracker, and Maura felt a liquid hot fire scorch throughout her entire side that quickly turned to ice cold pain running through her veins. She collapsed and the last thing she saw was the bright blue sky, a stark difference from dark that was slowly clouding her vision.  
Sobbing could be heard off in the distance, and she felt warm lips on her forehead. She tried her hardest to open her eyes, but the darkness was trying to keep her and not give her back. Maura had tried to wade through the loud noises and bright lights to tell everyone that she was ok. The trajectory of the bullet had missed her heart and landed in the soft tissue next to it, based upon her difficulty to breathe. Eventually the darkness won and Maura has passed out.

 

Later that day the formal announcement was made that Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts had be fatally slain in a gang related shooting. She had died during surgery and the city of Boston would mourn her loss terribly. Somewhere in that town laid a Detective Jane Rizzoli, sitting in the floor of interview room 1, crying so hard that she had broken blood vessels around her eyes. Her hair fell in disarray and she was clutching Maura’s car keys so hard that the Toyota symbol was bruised into her palms.

 

It had been a year today since that happened; it had been a year since Maura “died”. Jane still wrote to her every day, and she still believed that Maura was out there somewhere, buying Chanel and eating Hors d'oeuvres on the beach. She was out there somewhere. Somewhere. 

 

Jane,

 

I know that I’ll never actually send this letter, I. But, I feel like when I write out my feelings to you, it hurts less than speaking them. I cannot even imagine how you are coping right now; I know that I’m not. I have avoided the pain and I know that eventually it will overtake me. I use people now Jane, I use them to feel. That’s not something that Maura Isles does; mostly because I’m not Maura Isles, I’m Amelia Harris. I wish they would have let me choose my own name, I would have picked Leonore Beauregard, and it’s much more romantic than...Amelia. Regardless, I’m not Maura. I write to you nearly every day, in this journal that I hide under my mattress. The only reason I even bought this thing was because its navy blue cover reminded me of the time you spoke to the crowd in your blues. Well, it’s about 4 a.m. and I haven’t slept yet, I’ve obtained a fairly regular bedmate and he snores quite loudly. Alas, he is a body though; I do miss sleeping next to you. I especially miss waking up to you; I pray that someday I can do it just once more. I would give it all up, well I have given it all up, just to see you once more.

 

 

Beep.  
Beep.  
Beep

 

“Babe...Babe, could you turn off your goddamned alarm.” said a sleep-ridden voice too close to Maura’s ear. His voice was too low, too gravelly; it’s not what she wanted to hear in the morning. Eric was good man, he really was, but he was cocky and uncouth. Arrogance did not wear well on him, and well...he was good in bed. That was his redeeming quality, sad to say. He was a terrible listener and misogynistic to boot. This is not how Maura liked her mornings to start.

“Eric, you know perfectly well that I hate it when you call me that; it’s condescending and just rude. I wake up every morning at 5:45 a.m. and you complain every single time it goes off. Using deductive reasoning, and a fair bit of common sense, you could ascertain that every single night you insist on sleeping over, it’s going to go off at the same time the next morning” Amelia huffed, turning over to glare at her bedmate in the rosy dawn light. Today was not the day to try her already dissipating patience.

Eric rolled his dark brown eyes and rolled back over to catch what precious moments of sleep he could before his pager would ring, signaling the start of his workday. Eric loved Amelia, well he acted like he did. Her little grammatical quips and slight oddities we just wearing his patience down to the quick, he was not equipped to emotionally deal with someone in relationship. He found that the more she talked, especially when she went off on her stupid tangents about thing not a single soul cared about, the more he just wanted to call it quits and go back to being a bachelor in Denver. She was a beauty though, and he would be lucky if he ever found someone as sexy as her, and boy was she great in bed. She even understood the erratic hours of being a surgeon, and never once complained when his pager went off at all hours of the night when he did end up staying over.

Maura got up with an apathetic gaze. She used to love morning, cherish the quiet peace and nature before real life got in the way. Now that she was in Denver, she hadn’t been able to appreciate the mornings like she used to, it was probably the lack of good company. Shivering with the pre-dawn chill, Maura padded her way into the master bathroom and shut the door, leaving Eric snoring in her bed. Taking the plunge, she flipped on the light and flinched; she never had gotten used to how bright it was in Colorado. There were no large buildings blocking her windows, only trees and mountains for miles. She looked in the mirror and frowned at her brown hair, and sullen expression. She hated that she couldn’t recognize herself anymore. She knew that was the point, but she still felt like she was in an ugly shell. Her gaze went to her chest, and the slight scar above her heart. Normally she would just look over it; scars were just a place where broken skin met back up. But, this scar, on this day, was important. It has been a year today. a year since a .22 had been lodged into what the public thought was her heart, when in all reality, it had missed just a bit. But, that little bit is what had kept her “alive”

She still got pains in her chest when she was particularly stressed or overexerted, a reminder that she should keep herself out of the spotlight when possible. Slowly tracing over the puckered skin, Maura couldn’t help but wonder what she would be doing today. Would she be thinking about her, or what they had? Had she forgotten about her and moved on, no doubt with someone new? Jane was not a consolation prize to be had, she was first place, and Maura had been the lucky winner. Jane thought she was dead; maybe she would take flowers to her grave?

With a tiny sniffle and a nod of courage, Maura smiled into the mirror to try and see if she could fool her facial muscles into thinking she would be okay today. She just needed to calm down and breathe. Perhaps a shower would help calm her down. She stepped into the shower and turned the hot water all the way up, immediately disappearing into a cloud of steam. Her knees were shaking even in the scalding spray and she felt lightheaded. She leaned against a wall and took deep breaths.

Maura steadied herself in the shower; not wanting to explain to the man in the next room over if would have collapsed while bathing. Maura let her demeanor fall. She needed to be weak for a moment and cry. She cried hard for the future she had so desperately wanted, but would never get. She was about to turn the shower off, realizing that she would never wash away this sense of loneliness, when she felt the curtain open. Whipping her head around, she saw Eric step in and start washing himself, without even a glance in her direction.

“You know, I do have a guest bathroom, if you’d rather some privacy” the brunette said, gingerly stepping out and wrapped her shivering form with a plush towel off the rack next to her.  
“Yeah babe, I know. I just love seeing you naked and wet in front of me whenever I can” Eric purred, gesturing for her to come back into the shower, swinging his hips in an almost wretched motion towards her lithe form. Maura had no intention of having relations in the shower, especially today. The shower is where she had made love to Jane and that was not a memory she was going to forsake, especially with someone she had no connection with. She loved sex, but every time she slept with someone else, she lost a piece of herself, her real self, not this shit imagery the Federal Government had her disguised as.

Maura shook her head, clearing her muddled thoughts, and walked back into the bedroom. She fell back into her bed, wet hair and all, showing how much she really had changed in this year she’d been Amelia. She did not want to face the harsh world today; she thought she could handle it, but she just couldn’t muster the courage to act like everything was okay. Grieving for her future was not something she had done yet, who had the time? She was a busy woman, even living a fake life. She had a job, and a boyfriend, if that’s what you could call him. There were better words for their relationship, but deep down she was still an Isles at heart, and she couldn’t bear to tarnish that name. She really disliked when Eric stayed over but she felt herself unable to say no when he asked. He wasn’t a bad guy, he just knew that he was attractive, and he was very judgmental, which is something Maura did not tolerate. She had learned a lot while on this journey, including what she had coveted in Boston.

Maura mulled over the fact that she had no motivation to live, no desire to do anything other than survive. She could not handle dealing with someone else’s issues at the hospital she worked at, when she had so many of her own to deal with today; it just wasn’t fair to the patients. She needed today to heal as many as her open emotional wounds that she could. Tomorrow would be a different day.

Grabbing her phone, she sent a quick text to her colleague to let her know that she would be taking a well-deserved personal day today and she should not be contacted, less it be dire. Uncharacteristically she flung her duvet back over her head, and hid in the darkness. She needed to stop this destructive behavior; sleeping with a man she didn’t love, and calling off of work for a personal day. None of these behaviors were something that Maura would have done. Maybe tomorrow, she would start focusing on work, and taking pride in what she did every day, a Pediatrician at Rocky Mountain Children’s hospital in Denver, Colorado. She loved her job; children were so full of innocence, energy, and life. Those were the three very things she was missing in her life. She loved her job, because children believed everything you said and looked at you as if you were saving the entire world for fixing their coughs. They believed in magic, and fairy dust, and miracles, and Candyland. Their little eyes and big dreams were what kept Maura sane. Even if she was Dr. Harris at the hospital, she still loved these kids and couldn’t imagine not helping them. There were some days where it could be too much, a blatant reminder that there were dangers still in this world. Maybe someday she would ponder the thought of children...maybe.

 

With the blanket still over her eyes, Maura figured that if she played her cards right, she would be asleep by the time Eric left for work, and for the rest of the day she could be free to do as she pleased without any interruption, even if only in the sanctuary of her small, 2 bedroom house in the suburbs of Denver. It was a tiny townhouse, a stark contrast from her lavish home on Beacon Hill. She no longer cared about the thread count of sheets, or how many of her dress were in production. She had taken it all for granted, and life had taken it back. The lesson had been learned, and Maura felt more relaxed in jeans and t shirt than she did in full get up nowadays.

She favored the little things now: the warm sunlight on her face, the smell of daisies in bloom. She loved to just walk around and watch people being happy, even if life humans still scared her a little bit. She loved warm bread in the patisserie down the street, and she loved to eat food out of the food trucks during the art walk she went to every Friday. Maura was living the most right now, and it was with no one she knew. She was living as Amelia Harris, but at least she was alive.

She dozed on and off for the rest of the day, dreaming of the memories she had made with Jane. She remembered her first date, the first “I love you”, the first kiss, and all the firsts they had. It was enough to make the pain in her heart dull down a bit. She stayed like that all day, only rising to make a peanut butter and fluff sandwich, and feed Bass. Bass had come with her, she would not have negotiated that when she was moved. He was too important to her, and he had been through enough with moving around. He was her anchor at times, keeping her from flying off the handle. 

Maura walked back into her bedroom and lay back on her bed; Eric had left hours ago, and she just wanted to sleep until tomorrow. She would deal with everything tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Six years: Jane 2

 

Jane grimaced as the brisk October wind stung her cheeks and whipped her dark curls all around. Pushing the wrought iron gate open, Jane looked around at the bare trees and overcast weather. She wandered around the cold Cemetery, reading names at dates from more than 100 years back; saying a concise prayer for every name and wishing them the best. Looking down at her worn boots, Jane reflected back on the two years she’s survived since Maura had died. She still hadn’t really said goodbye, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. Feeling her throat tighten and her eyes water, Jane stomped towards a lonely path while wiping away the tears that had escaped. Goddamn it was windy today. She hated being outside: the sun was too bright, the city was too loud, and every single step she took chiseled away at her stony exterior she tried so hard to keep intact. It’s a good thing she had come here alone, she couldn’t cry in front of others, and she was gonna cry today. It needed to happen. Looking at the roses she had bundled in her hand, Jane decided that this was it and she needed to do this in order to make peace. She dropped the roses on the ground, falling to her knees Jane cried.

‘I’m not ready for this Maur, I can’t have it be real. I still believe that you’re out there somewhere. It’s like I can feel it, I know it. It hurts more knowing that you’re out there living and I’m not allowed to see you. What kind of life is that?’ pondered the sullen Detective. She had been adamant that Maura was still alive somewhere, but it was getting to the point that Jane was saying more to convince herself. Not that the signs weren’t in her favor, but she just didn’t like having the only opinion against the world. It was disheartening to have no one on your side; having the whole world just stare at you silently judging because you have an unpopular opinion.

Slowly but deliberately, Jane stood up from her knees and grasped the dozen roses she had let fall earlier, shaking them slightly to rejuvenate them. Shuffling towards the hill where the Isles’ family plots were, she remembered visiting here with Maura years before when they had buried her father after a bout of nasty pneumonia. She recalled the tiny honey blonde shaking as they made the trek up the hill. Maura has never been particularly close with her adoptive parents, but she had always been a daddy’s girl, regardless of her father’s attendance in her life. There had been no tears until she was staring at the marker, fairly plain considering the Isles owned about 10 miles of this cemetery.

Taking a deep breath, Jane walked up the last part of the hill, not bothering to fix her hair that was blowing wildly in the harsh wind. Everything around her seemed to stand still. frozen in time. The leaves froze midair, the birds silenced, the wind died down, the grass faded to brown, and Jane’s heart stopped beating. There is was; it was so hauntingly beautiful that Jane was reduced to a slack-jawed stare. Jane put her hand out to touch the black marble and flinched back when she made contact with the cold surface. Here it was, in all its glory, standing 5 feet tall was an angel arms reaching out to the sky to beg the heaven’s to release the owner of their mortal pain. All the angel was asking, pleading for, was to just let them go. Something Jane just couldn’t quite yet. If there was something that Rizzoli’s were known for it was their stubbornness, and Jane was not budging on this.

She’d never actually seen Maura’s grave before, at the funeral she was inconsolable and had to be escorted away before anyone had even spoken. She just couldn’t focus and she’d been awake for nearly 38 hours. She had spent the duration of the service, hunched over in Maura’s Prius, crying into a scarf that was hanging from the rear view mirror. She still had that scarf, nestled in her kit belt. She sometimes brushed a hand against the cool silk in trying times to remind her that she did still have a reason to live, a reason to keep on going. She didn’t usually keep material items, she just wasn’t that type of person. But, that scarf was the first item she mourned with, and it was special to her.

Taking a respectful knee in front of the angel, Jane set the dozen roses across the base and whispered a quick greeting.

“Hi Maura- well, you’re not Maura, but you are the closest I’ll ever be to her again.That’s so sad isn’t it? Whatever, I need to tell this to someone nonetheless. I didn’t think I would make it today, I’ve been having more and more trouble convincing myself that it’s worth getting off the couch anymore. I miss you. I miss you more than I’ve ever missed anything in my entire life Maur. I miss your smell, your voice, your intelligence, hell I even miss you moving my furniture around because it looked “unhappy” in my apartment. I miss taking your car to work when Martinez took mine. I took you for granted; I assumed you were a constant in my life. I was so...happy. I was so happy and all that I could do was complain about everything. Maur I-” Jane’s voice caught as she struggled against her own tears.”I just miss you.”

She placed a kiss on the cool surface of the angel’s hands and stood back. She noticed that it was a very well kept area, and a small smile graced her face when she saw that someone else had left a plush turtle off to the side. Seeing that small plush animal made Jane realize that she shouldn’t be so sorrowful about what’s in front of her. She knew Maura was alive somewhere, and she should be thankful that she was probably protected and happily feeding bass British Strawberries off the coast of some beach with a bottle of champagne that cost more than her cruiser.

Jane let out a tiny snorfle at the thought of Bass at the beach. She didn’t know what actually became of the African Spurred Tortoise, but she assumed that Maura had begged and pleaded to keep him as a companion of sorts. Either way, he was keeping someone company she was sure.

Feeling like a thousand pounds had been lifted from her, Jane turned around and made her way back down the hill to the tiny blue car that she had commandeered after the investigation had been over. Driving a Prius was just one stereotype Jade had refused to succumb to when she and Maura decided to merge their lives, but now the Detective couldn’t imagine going anywhere without it. It almost felt like a family heirloom, and it was soothing to sit somewhere that Maura had sat before. She opened the door and took a deep breathe, she was convinced that Maura’s scent was still in the car. She even had kept the doctor’s keychain including the photo of them taken at their first softball game. Smiling to herself, Jane started the car and made her way over to the highway. Riding high on this feeling of emotional freedom, Jane vowed to do something she had been avoiding for quite some time.

She needed to go to Beacon Hill; she’d been putting it off long enough. It was time for her to face her fears and visit the one place that held all of the memories she had tried to lock away. She needed to face their home, for the first time in two years.

 

Maura :2 Years  
There are some things that act like a vice that leads people in their lives. It reminds them of a happy time or just a pleasant memory they could float back to when time were tough. For Maura, that was Bass. Who knew that an African Spurred Tortoise could mean so much to a grown woman? Bass was more than just a pet; he was a judgment free place to go when Maura needed someone to talk to about anything. He never yelled, cried, or made a scene. Bass was the perfect confidant, hence why when Maura was being transported to her destination two years ago, she had demanded that Bass would be coming along for the journey as well.  
  
Surprisingly enough the Agent who had been in charge of Maura’s transportation, Agent Clark, had no qualms with her odd request. Agent Clark was a large, burly man with skin the color of espresso beans in the morning. He never really spoke; but when he did, you had better listen. Maura never really trusted Federal Agents, especially after hearing from BPD how much they despised the crew that stole all the glory but did none of the grunt work. But, Agent Clark seemed like decent, dependable man that still remembered what it was like to work hard for a living. Either way, he was always pleasant and respectable when they chatted at their monthly meetings.  
  
Deciding not to dwell on the past too much, Maura arose from her couch where she had been thinking about her life and where it was going. Stopping to kneel down and pet Bass’ shell, Maura spoke a few whispered thanks to the pet. Rising with a sigh, the Brunette made her way to her wardrobe which sadly no longer gave her the joy it had a year ago.

  
Dressing was just something she did by habit now; granted she still loved putting together outfits, but she really didn’t take too much pride in her appearance. She figured it was because she didn’t feel like herself with her chin length brown hair, and heavy regimen of makeup to disguise her. How could one be proud to look like someone they’re not? Would Jane even find her attractive like this; she couldn’t really run her fingers through her hair, or put it in the ponytail Jane has heavily hinted as being a major turn on for her. Maura thumbed through her closet, deciding what was appropriate for the brisk September weather they seemed to be having in Denver. That was the biggest change for Maura so far; it could be 90 degrees at noon, and get down to the forties by dusk.

  
Deciding on a red cowl neck sweater and some black dress pants, Maura checked herself in the mirror. She giggled, thinking that she looked kind of like a freckled version of Snow White, minus the dwarfs at her feet. Maybe Bass could wear a beard. That was quite the thought.  
Pondering about what she should do on her rare day off, Maura thought of the things that reminded her of the best times with Jane. Glancing at her red shirt, it dawned on her that maybe a baseball game would be a respectful way to honor what they had, considering they always seemed to have a major life checkpoint when they attended a game. Maura grabbed her phone, and searched for a baseball game, even if it was college or high school still. It would be nice to cheer for someone, even if she had no idea who they were. It what was what they had done on their second date, why not their second year apart?

 

“C”mon Maura, you don’t have to sanitize the whole bench? You’re wearing pants, they’re not going to permeate through a plastic bench. Just sit on my lap if you’re that concerned about germs”

She remembered that game, it had been so much fun just to snuggle with Jane on the bench and tuck her head under the detective’s strong chin. It was crisp and they had brought a blanket to sit under. Maura had ingested a very unhealthy amount of butter-saturated popcorn while Jane drank her body weight in whatever was on tap. They laughed and talked to the people around them while snuggling tight in their little cocoon of warmth. Jane had even accidentally tossed her on the cement when diving for a foul ball. What a splendid memory. Maura wanted to recreate the memory as best as she could.  
She was in luck, the Colorado Rockies were set to play the Red Sox that day. Quickly selecting an option to pick up her ticket at the door Maura beamed, knowing that this must have happened for a reason, even though she knew that things happened because of cause and effect. Sometime she would indulge in the simple idiocracies that the general public would sucuumb to. Grabbing her keys and bag, Maura headed out the door pausing to look in the mirror and remind herself that she needed to be Amelia now and she needed to act like it.  
  
“Well, looks like I’m going to a baseball game.” Maura declared to herself squaring her shoulder and turning towards the door “I’m going to have a good time, and no one is gonna stop me”  
  
Driving towards Coors Field, Maura flipped through the radio stations. All they played these days was that womp womp music that sounded like a tabletop nebulizer, and degrading hip hop with no lyrical hook. Thinking of what Jane liked to listen to, Maura scanned the stations until it to the classic rock station. As the first few chords of “American Pie” by Don Mclean started to play, she allowed herself to be lulled into a memory of the last time she had heard this song.  
  
“Hey Maura, why do you always make me listen to music twice?” Jane has asked with a confused look on her face, “I mean, I know that you like music, but do you really need to hear it twice in a row? I mean, I know that they said the music died but Maur, I think it’s still alive in this case.  
  
Maura just smiled and put her hand over Jane’s, on the center console, driving towards her house for another Rizzoli Sunday dinner “I like to hear a song, make an assessment on what it means, and then listen to it once more just to solidify my theory and interpretation of the piece. For example: this song is about the "The Day the Music Died" the 1959 plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper in 1959 but one could also speculate that it was a cry for attention from the ever-growing rock n roll community! It is such a beautiful song, that I just have to hear it at least a second time just to hear a new meaning!”

 

“Okay Dr. Isles, no need to burst a blood vessel over a song that came out like 4 years before I was even born. Take a chill pill” Jane chided lightly, feigning impatience at her knowledgable better half.  
  
“That’s the wonderful thing about art, it means something different to everyone” the M.E. quipped and changed lanes, taking the exit towards her Beacon Hill home. “I’m also going to ignore the comments about blood vessels, and a magical pill that lowers one’s core temperature"  
  
“Only you could make something like Don McLean sound like cancer diagnosis. I know that I complain when you explain things to me Maur, but I really love watching how your eyes light up, and you get all excited because you’ve got a gift of knowledge to give me” Jane purred into Maura’s ear causing Maura’s heart to flutter and her face to flush. These were the moment she lived for. If Jane hadn’t stopped then, they never would have made it home on time.  
  
Snapping back to reality, Maura accelerated through the intersection and pulled into the parking area for the game. Maura knew the social faux pas she would create wearing red on the Rockies side, so she decided to wait until the game started and make her way over to the Boston side. Until that time came, the doctor kept herself busy by going over the batting averages of all the players on the roster for tonight. Hearing the star spangled banner start, Maura entered the field, and made her way towards the Red Sox side, which was slightly bare given the fact that they were in Denver, not Boston. She set the simple Red Sox blanket that Jane made her years ago on the bleachers, and settled herself in for the duration of the game.

Halfway through the game, Maura had no idea what the score was but she was having the greatest time. The couple next to her had matching Sox jerseys on that said “I’m hers” & “I’m his” and she thought it was the cutest thing. Wishing she had someone to share something like that wish, she thought of Eric and sighed. She needed to break up with him; she couldn’t keep stringing him along, it wasn’t fair to him. She would deal with that later, for now this moment, this was about honoring Jane.  
  
‘Oh my God, Jane’s probably watching this game’ Maura thought, searching for the cameras around the stadium. If Jane saw her alive, she knew that there would be no force on Earth to keep Jane from making a huge scene and trying to find her. Well, at least she hoped that Jane would still care enough. Feeling like her presence here was skirting the line too closely; Maura bid her fellow game watchers goodbye. She stood up and made her way out of the stadium. Still feeling oddly refreshed after sharing something like that, hoping that she was doing the same thing as Jane, even in a different bout of homesickness and vulnerability. . Getting into her car, she wished she’d had her Prius with her. She wanted to get home, she needed to be home.

 

She needed to see Jane.

 

Deciding that wasn’t really an option,Maura unlocked the 3 locks on her door and realized that she had no recollection of the drive home, or even walking up to her door. That started the doctor, she never surrendered control or lost focus like that.  
  
Shaking slightly after that rush of emotion, Maura keyed in her code and nearly ran inside her house. The microwaved showed that it was about 8 p.m. Maura kicked of her shoes and made her way towards the living room. She sat down on her couch and grabbed her laptop, booting it up thinking maybe she could cheer herself up. Agent Clark had warned her not to go anywhere suspicious that could lead people to her but Maura was having none of it. Thinking that it would be best to be anonymous, she logged into an anonymous proxy and went to BlueTube.com/BPD, a video storage site for the Boston Police Department. It was all public speaking and press conferences, and it was all public domain, but Maura figured that it would be better if she still took that extra precaution.  
Typing “Rizzoli” into the search bar, the site auto suggested:  
“Rizzoli, Francesco  
Rizzoli, Jane C  
and Rizzoli, Angela”  
  
Deciding that she wasn’t quite ready, Maura clicked on Angela, thinking maybe the face of her former motherly figure would help ease her into this. A video came up, a commercial for the division one cafe. Angela looked considerably older, even though it had only been a year since Maura had seen her. She looked happy to be honest and that kind of stung Maura. She realized that it was selfish, but it really hurt to see someone so detrimental to her life be so okay when she wasn’t there. It also stung knowing that she cared more for Angela than she did her own lineage  
Deciding that she was ready, Maura clicked on Jane’s name and the first thing to pop up was the press conference after Maura’s funeral. It was heartbreaking, just as Maura was about to play it, her front door burst open and Eric stormed in looking like he had seen better days.

“Amelia, I’m glad you’re home, do we have any scotch? I’m fucking irritated and I wanna go numb as soon as I can” Lamented the Surgeon, plopping on Maura’s couch and putting his shoe clad feet on her table, disregarding anything in his way. This was one of the many reasons that she just couldn’t keep him in her life.  
It was the little things that made her more and more upset these days, looking over to the brooding man, Maura picked up his feet and guided them off of the table and onto the floor.

“Eric, we need to talk; I’m not happy. I can’t justify this right now, but I don’t think we are working out” she said, avoiding any eye contact with the man in front of her.

“I, uh” said Eric, his face contorting into something more than just anger. The Doctor looked like he was capable of things far worse than Maura had imagined. “You don’t get to fucking do this Amelia. You don’t get to fuck around with me, and then leave me. I made it per-fec-ly clear in the beginning that I don’t do booty calls; I don’t do one night stands. I am a relationship type of man, and I don’t get fucking jerked around like a playboy, especially from women like you.”

“Women like ME?” Maura was fuming; she had to diffuse her anger before she said something she regretted. Sighing softly, she muttered “Eric, I think you should just go. I just need time to myself, please.  
  
Turning towards the door, Eric stomped towards the entrance quickly spinning on one foot, pointing his finger in Maura’s face  
“Mark my words, Amelia fucking Harris. You will NEVER find another man like me, I hope you know that”  
With those words he stormed out, slamming the door so hard it send a picture frame to the floor.

“Maura Isles, I’M MAURA ISLES” screamed the doctor, picking up the pieces of glass off the floor that seemed like a haunting display of her life. “AND I DON’T FUCKING WANT A MAN LIKE YOU, I WANT MY DETECTIVE YOU SONOFABITCH”


	3. chapter 3

My dearest Maura,

 

You know, I always write you little notes and small letters once a week, but it's never much but the floating thought,  or something Frankie said that was funny. But these- these yearly ones I actually spend lots time on perfecting and writing; I have no idea why. Who's going to read it? It's not like I know where you are whether it be 6 hours away or 6 feet under. Either way, a lot has happened this year and I need to get it off of my chest.

I'm so torn. I just keep telling myself that I need to move on, but every single time I even look at someone,  they don't compare to you. I need to feel wanted,  desired even; I just need to feel. But, I can't do that because you've ruined me for anyone else, Maur. No one has hair that smells like yours,  or arms that fit me just right,  and no one especially can call me Jay and make me swoon. No one is good enough for me Maura, so I guess I'll just go through life alone.

I'm kinda losing my energy Maura.  I think about you every day, and I talk about you even more than that. I can’t make peace with what has happened and I'm still so pissed that I barely got to kiss you goodbye. I go to your grave every Sunday, even if I have a case, and I sing you our song and bring you roses. Not those roses from 1-800-flowers though, the flowers that you and I planted when you decided you needed a garden,  4 years ago. I figure that I can bring some normality to you, maybe make you feel at home. Are you really down there Maura? Were you really shot and killed that wretched day three years ago? If that proves true then I can only say I would join you soon after, as I'm finding it harder and harder to stay on this Earth.  What's the point if you're not here? Remember the song we first made love to? Do you remember holding me so tight and we cried because it pained us too much to think of life without the other. It's true though, I will follow you into the dark, Maura.   
  
I will follow you into the dark.

 

-Jane  
  


Tiny little snow flurries drifted like powdered sugar over the windshield of the Prius where Jane sat at the train tracks bouncing her knee nervously. She felt her chest heaving as her heartbeats became erratic. She still, after 6 months being there, was not 100% comfortable living in the house again. But, Jane’s lease had ended and they had jacked the rent up almost a hundred bucks; it just wasn’t even worth it anymore. She had moved back into their shared home back in June and was still getting settled. She couldn’t change anything in the house. She just couldn’t bear to lose any more of Maura, as pitiful as that sounded. It had been three years today, three years since she’d been happy. Finally the train moved and Jane accelerated through the intersection, desperate to get home after a long day at work.

 

She pulled up and parked on the street, staring at the large house that was slowly starting to become a home again. Jane exited the vehicle with a groan and made her way up the walk, pausing at the front door. The Detective grabbed her keys with trembling hands trying to unlock the front door. After numerous attempts she shakily pushed on the heavy wooden door as it creaked open with a groan.

“One, Two, Three”, Jane’s breathing was steady as she walked into the foyer and stood for a moment. It’s not like anything had changed, but sometimes, after a long day, she just stopped and looked around. Even after 3 years, she still had wanted to call out for Maura, asking what was for dinner. She wanted to walk up behind her love and sweep her off her feet suddenly, getting playful swat in return.

She still had notes on the fridge and the answering machine was still their message. When Jane had a particularly bad night, she would grab a 6 pack and loop the message, just to hear her voice again. It fucking stung, but she would be able to function for a few days after.  Jane had one of the post-it’s laminated and stuck into her wallet. When no one was looking, she escaped to the bathroom to: kiss the note, whisper what was wrong, and hopefully calm her shit down. It was the most simple note, written on a BPD post it note, crumpled in the corner from the too-heavy magnet dropping it to the floor.

  
  
Jay,

I will probably be working late tonight, as I have an abundance of paperwork to finish. There’s some of your mother’s gnocchi in the refrigerator and a fresh 6-pack in the crisper. I love you pretty girl, and I’ll try not to wake you when I come home.

Oh, and you look so adorable when you’re sleeping, just to let you know.   
  
:),

Maura <3

  
  


It was little things like those notes that made Maura just so hard to let go. Jane was starting to lose her faith that Maura was still alive. She never wanted to give up hope, but it was just too damn hard to keep going on like nothing was wrong. She had always prided herself on being strong in weak situations, but it’s hard knowing that nobody in the entire world agreed with you on something that was so close to your heart.

 

The defeated detective sauntered over to the couch and flopped down in a tangle of limbs. Maybe she just needed to go out and have fun? That seemed like such a chore anymore. Everyone was just too quiet and too quick to ask if she was okay. Which was sweet for the first 100 times, but not three years later. She’s wasn’t dead yet, so she was better off than some. She’d better hurry and turn some lights on, if Angela knew she was off and didn’t show some sign of life she would be getting a phone call. Some days Angela threw all courtesy out the window and just barged over from the guest house. Jane needed to get drunk tonight, that’s for sure.   
  


Jane had always wondered why her mother never left the small guest house. Maura had left Angela the house in her will, with the expenses paid for a considerable amount of years, but Angela had looked at Maura as her daughter, especially after she had announced her relationship with Jane. Angela could not picture anyone more perfect for her daughter and was devastated when she was killed. Whether she was blood related or not, it hurts like hell to have someone you’d just added to your family, be taken away in such a tragic and sudden way.

 

 

A few hours later, after an awkward cab ride to the robber, and an embarrassing amount of alcohol had been consumed,  Jane has collected enough shot glasses to build a small castle. With a whoop, she let the vile liquid make its way down her throat for the last time. and sighed with relief. Jane felt human again. She paid her tab with a large tip she couldn't afford and sat outside the Robber on the curb watching cars drive by into the dusky sunset. Frost had already called and told her to stop what she was doing and that he was on his way.

She thought about how much Frost had really helped her out these past few years. He had helped her move back into Maura’s house, offering a shoulder when she needed to cry.  He had, on many occasions, called to check in on her after a hard case, just listening to her talk about how much she missed Maura. He even took her on a date for Maura’s birthday last year and they had ended up at an art museum, looking at a piece that Constance had left there after her showing. It had been nice, and she had sang Happy Birthday to Maura’s plot and put some My Pretty Pony decorations around the angel’s wings, lightning the whole situation a bit.

 

But, it had been three years today; Jane was tired of pretending and being alone. She just wanted someone to talk to, not even a relationship. She knew she was being manipulative making Frost do all of these things. Tommy had told Jane long ago about Barry’s confession in the rubble of the building they were crushed in, and at the time Jane didn’t mind because she had been very in love with Maura and Frost had never tried a single thing, and never would; that’s just the type of person he was.   
  
Hearing a familiar “Honk!”, Jane looked up to see a tired Frost, leaning out the window.   
  
“Hey Jane, I’m just coming off of a 28-er, can I crash at your place” Frost muttered, eyelids drooping. He knew that he wasn’t really in the best shape to drive, but he couldn’t just leave Jane alone. He wouldn’t admit it, but he would do anything short of dying for her. He loved her, but she had loved Maura and boy was it obvious she was not healing well.   
  
  
Trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, Frost eventually pulled onto Jane’s street and parked across from her home. It was weird to think that Jane lived here by herself in this big house. But, Maura had lived alone for who knows how long before Jane came along. That thought alone was enough to make Barold’s heart go out to the fallen M.E. again.

 

Staggering towards Maura's house, nearly taking out the mailbox, Jane fumbled to find which house key opened the front door. Becoming increasingly frustrated over her lack of sobriety and coordination, Jane handed her keys to Frost, who guided them into the foyer when he realized that Jane had not even locked the door to begin with. Jane grabbed his hand and gave him the saddest look he’d ever seen. Her big brown doe eyes were watery and tinted a bit red from the alcohol coursing through her system.  
  
“Will you do me a solid Frost, please? I need to forget. Please?” Jane asked looking at the floor, ashamed to say the things she’d been thinking out loud.

 

“Jane, what?! Make you forget? You’re already like 10 miles past drunk, and I have no intentions of feeding an ever-growing dependence on whisky.”  
  
“No Frost, she was the last person to have me, and I can’t deal with that. I’m supposed to be healing, and all I can do is think about the last time we made love. It hurts Barry, it hurts because I’m giving up, and I just need someone to tell me that I don’t need to keep looking. I don’t want anything past tonight; I probably won’t even remember it, but I- I just need to”  
  
  
“You need to sleep that’s all it is” Frost said wearily. He was exhausted and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open and to make things worse, Jane was eyeing him in a way that made him uncomfortable. He was literally about to pass out, so he just made his way to the guest room and shut the door, passing out on the bed, shoes and badge still in their places,  with no hopes to awaken for at least 12 hours.

 

Jane grabbed a beer from the fridge, feeling dejected. She just wanted a physical release that she could not satisfy herself. Every time she tried to do so, it was Maura whispering her name, or grabbing her hair, sometimes Maura even took control of her body, making the anguish worse in the end. She knew that he had always harbored feelings for her, why wouldn’t he do this one thing? Maybe she just needed to take some initiative, and seize what she wanted.

 

Frost awoke the next morning, feeling a train full of leg cramps had run him over. The sun was too bright, the damn birds were too loud, and the stupid asshole next to him was snoring like a bullhorn.

 

  
wait…

  
  


...thoroughly confused, Frost moved himself from where he assumed he had landed the night before, upside down on the bed facing the floor in the guest bedroom at Maura’s. Who was next to him?

 

When Frost saw the crazy array of signature Rizzoli hair, he panicked. He didn’t remember coming here, or how he got here. He hadn’t been drinking, and he knew better than to drive while under an influence. The last thing he remembered was Jane calling him after he and Korsak finally finished their DD5’s after working for more than a day straight. Normally, Jane would have been there to help make a dent, but it was an unspoken deal that she did not show up on a few days. One was Maura’s birthday, their anniversary, and the last was the day she had died.

 

“Jane, Jane. Get up man, we gotta go in. Lieutenant is gonna rip me a new asshole for being late, it’s like 9 a.m., I needed to be there like 3 hours ago.” Frost said shaking the body lying next to him on the queen sized bed.

 

Finally after a moment of grumbling and some incoherent swearing, Jane flung herself up, mane of hair and all. She squinted her eyes into the harsh daylight, as her actions from the night before came back to her. She had done things that made her sick to her stomach to think about. She had taken advantage of her best friend while he was sleeping to cure an ache that she could have waited out. How selfish was that? This classified as rape! What would she do? This was so wrong.

 

“Uh, go ahead and go Frost, I’ll drive my cruiser to the station. I..um..do you remember last night? It’s kinda fuzzy for me?” Jane lied between her teeth, hoping that he wouldn’t, this was embarrassing and she should be ashamed of herself.

 

“Erm, no, I actually don’t; it’s all kinda blurry. Jane, why are you just in your underwear?!” Frost covered his eyes, avoiding the woman he still respected more than anything else “I know we’re partners but did you just collapse into bed like that? People don’t just do..Jane? Why...Why...Why is there what looks like...male...fluids on the sheets? Did you let me sleep in a bed you’ve been doin the dirty on? Cause super fuckin nasty dude.”   
  
Judging by the tears in Jane’s eyes, and his sudden realization that his fly was not where it should be, Frost looked at Jane, taking a deep breath as he asked the question that he did not want the answer to.   
  
“Jane, did we sleep together?”    
  
  
  
  
  
________________________________________  
  
Jane,  
  
I am trying too hard to make my life move forward; it’s slowly draining the life out of me. I can’t write very long, but no matter what happens, I love you. You will never be replaced in my heart and it kills me everyday when I wake up alone. I love you pretty girl.

Maura.

 

  
  
Maura locked her car, and walked towards the sports bar that she was meeting her date at. It was 7:58 p.m. and she hadn’t seen any sign of their car in the parking lot. Dr. Ari was a chief resident and the hospital she worked at, and she had been inquiring about her status for quite some time. She had done her mandatory sniffling this morning, but Maura was determined to honor her memory of Jane by having a decent time, instead of playing Mahjong on her phone with Bass all night while crying into quinoa.   
  
  
She pushed open the yellow doors with what seemed like a large mammal on the handle. Maura had never been here before, but the atmosphere seemed like something Jane would go to, and they served Blue Moon. After being seated by a waiter wearing a Jersey, Maura noticed that the words “fight night” were posted everywhere. Was there entertainment here as well? It was rather loud, as people were gesturing towards the larger projection screen which seemed to have some sort of Martial Arts being performed.   
  
  
Finally, Dr. Ari approached, still dressed in her hospital attire. Maura chided herself on not knowing her name before accepting her date proposal. It had been a long while since Maura had accepted a date request. Even Eric had never taken her on a proper date. When you work at all hours of the day, being at home kind of becomes a privilege and you grasp that opportunity whenever possible.

Dr. Ari was a tall lanky woman with skin the color of warm chocolate. Maura had never seen her with her hair down and was quite surprised at how long it was, falling nearly to the belt of her tight blue scrubs. Maura looked away, temporarily embarrassed for staring rudely without introduction.   
  
  
“Hello Amelia, quite nice to see you. I apologize for me being late, and my outfit. I had an emergency to attend to.  I won’t go into detail, have you ordered yet?" Dr. Ari asked while setting her coat down. It was starting to get cold out at night, especially higher up here in the mountains.

“Hello, I’m so sorry; I never caught your name. I always just called you Dr. Ari. It smells wonderful in here, I’ve never been here but my old partner used to say that wings were the cure for anything.” Maura blushed and looked down; you were not supposed to talk about exes on the first date. She didn’t expect a second date really, but she wanted to at least be respectful, and maybe she would make a friend. Three years is too long to go without bonding in an area.   
  
  
“It’s Asha, my name, that is. Oh, I love this place. I love how you can get lost in the crowd and just duck out of the presence of others. Also, they have fantastic pretzels” Asha said with a small smile, she was warming up to the cold doctor, and could tell that she was still uncomfortable.”So, why now Amelia? I mean, I’ve been asking you out for years, and this time I just asked for the hell of it. I was over the moon when you agreed, but you don’t seem too enthralled by the idea of spicy wings.”

 

The Doctor sighed and unfolded her napkin into her lap “I-I haven’t been on a date, in a year or two” Maura admitted “it’s been even longer since I’ve gone on a date with a woman” Maura smiled softly at her date, who seemed to pick up on her discomfort.  
  
  
Asha smiled at Maura and grabbed her hand from across the table, silently letting Maura know that she was ok here, and that she was setting the pace. She had seen that look before, especially when she talked to the spouses of those patients that she just couldn’t save. Amelia had been hurt, and was not quite healed yet.   
  
  
“Amelia, I can tell that you are uncomfortable. You know, let’s scratch the date premise. Let’s just be two co-workers out for dinner. I just want to know you; I don’t need to date you to do that. I can see the hurt you display when asked about dating, so tell me something that makes you happy” Dr. Ari tilted her head slightly and smiled with the last part of that sentence.

“Bass, Bass makes me happy. He’s an African Spurred Tortoise, and he’s my only other resident. He’s been with me for, I don’t know, 15 years? He acts as my confidant; if you couldn’t tell, I’m not very personable. I’ve just been through a lot these years; I lost a partner awhile back and I keep thinking about her because she would have loved it here, and I never let her take me on a date here because I didn’t care for draft beer. I’m sorry; this is too much, and I just ramble sometimes. This was supposed to be about what makes me happy, not my sad life story.” Maura mumbled, cradling her head in her hands. She was making quite the fool out of herself, and she hadn’t even ordered her food yet.   
  
  
“NO!” Asha cried, grabbing onto one of Maura’s wrists, “You sound like you need to talk about her, tell me about her, and distract me from my own woman problems for a bit. I don’t know what it is about you Amelia Harris, but I just love listening to you talk.”   
  
  
So, Maura proceeded to tell her about Jane, kind of. It’s hard not being able to say her name, or what she did. So, instead Maura told Dr. Ari about their first date, their first Christmas, when Jane slept over for the first time, and ended with the story of how Jane had asked her about starting a family, only three days before they were separated. Not knowing how to avoid the truth about their situations, Maura just let the conversation fizzle out as she picked at her spicy wings. They tasted like Jane after she’d gone out following a ball game. The beer on tap smelled like Jane’s gym bag, and the cologne these men were wearing reminded Maura of more intimate times with her detective. All of this was becoming just a tad too much.  
  


Maura needed to get out of here so, after insisting on grabbing the check, the frazzled brunette had paid, leaving a handsome tip for their waiter, who seemed to take note of her discomfort. and booked it out of there like a bat out of hell. She just wanted to go home and cry about her failed date. What if Jane had ruined her for everyone else? She hadn’t even felt anything for the first year when she was with Eric. She could never find someone with that beautiful mane of hair, or those legs that went on for days in the perfect heels. No one else was as warm as Jane, and no one could fill the hole in Maura’s heart. She thought that after three years, things would get easier; she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  
  


 


End file.
